


Goodbye

by EverythingHurtsAndImDying



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s13e01 Lost and Found, M/M, Not very subtle Destiel, mentions of character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 19:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingHurtsAndImDying/pseuds/EverythingHurtsAndImDying
Summary: *** SPOILERS FOR S13E01 OF SUPERNATURAL ***My own sorta take on the penultimate scene of episode one... Yeah, the one that broke my heart :')Insert:He wasn't going to lie to himself and pretend that, if blessed with the opportunity, he would do it all the same again. Because that was a lie, he had many regrets but he was going to let them burn away with the fire. Cas is dead, Crowley is dead, Kelly is dead. Now, he had to focus on Jack, teaching him how to be good and bringing mom back.





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd so all mistakes are my own :)
> 
> Forgive me for this, my heart hurts and I've just finished the episode and it made me inspired to write for the first time in months.
> 
> MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR LUCIFER'S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

The room smelt like death and Dean could feel it in the pits of his stomach. A churning sickness that bubbled in his throat and threatened to spew over at any moment. He struggled to swallow, fists clenched and creating crescents in his calloused palm as he stared down at the sheet. It wasn't even clean.

 

He wanted to scream and cry, curl up in a ball and just forget he existed.

 

There was a flash, a moment where he considered praying. No, Chuck was gone. He gripped tight to the anger that boiled with the grief and used it as a catalyst to trudge around the table.

 

There was a spark of hope, life was cruel like that, that when he tore back the cloth, Castiel would have his eyes open, maybe even gasp for a breath - hell, it wouldn't be the first time. He was glad the angel's eyes were closed. Staring at lifeless blue orbs that were once filled with such hope and innocence would only ruin the precious memories he had of Cas, ones that now didn't seem enough.

 

He couldn't look long, despite how he tried. A sob hitched in his throat and it was hard to swallow, almost as hard as it was looking down at the pale body that had once been a reason to keep going.

 

Relief didn't flood through him when he tossed the cloth back over, not even when he forced himself to turn away from the body. He would never feel relief again.

 

Looking out the window was easy but he wasn't really seeing anything. His mind seemed to be so wrapped up in sorrow and the pain of losing a loved one that all his senses shut off, only his mind was there to remind him of all he lost. And the inescapable sickness.

 

He managed to pull himself out of the void long enough to notice the curtains. The thought of Sam and living for his brother had brought his vision back enough to see how the light filtered through them.

 

The curtains. He could focus on that. Dean deemed himself a very goal-oriented person - find something and do it, find something else and do that, repeat. That was what he needed right then as to stop him from collapsing and never standing up. So, he focused on that.

 

It was with a strange sort of calmness that he pulled down the curtain frame and began ripping the material, his mind in a zone of complete concentration on his task. Even lifting Castiel's body to tie his body came with an unsettling easiness until another wave of defeat washed over him. He had to squeeze his eyes shut.

 

But when he forced his gaze to where the angel's head was, perfect face hidden under the cloth. He could almost make out the trace of his jawline. It was a face he knew oh, so well; one he had spent many nights and secret moments throughout the days studying. He loved the way the sun would paint Cas' face in the early hours of the morning or late afternoon and highlight the tiny hairs on his chin. Dean could tell Cas' mood by how accentuated his crow's feet in the artificial light of the bunker. He knew the shape and taste of Cas' lips like he knew the ins and outs of Baby, loved how they quirked up in the slightest miniscule movements when he found something entertaining - usually something Dean had said.

 

These memories gifted him, Cas gifted him, with a strange determination and he found he was able to continue focusing on the task at hand, despite how heavy his limbs became.

 

 

**\---**

 

 

"What do you say?" Jack asked, his face sombre yet his eyes still sparkled with that child-like confusion. Everything was new to him. The ground under his feet, the clothes he was wearing and grief. Grief was something he was experiencing for the first time and he had no idea how to express it.

 

Sam couldn't help the way his lips rose, if only slightly. "Right." He sighed and held back on the urge to smile because what do you say?

 

He looked down at the dirt, unable to meet the puzzled face of Jack, the kid he now had to take care of. He wondered if this was how Dean felt every time Sam would ask where his mother was or why his father was shouting when they were younger. It was bordering on painful.

 

The younger Winchester looked towards the pyre which seemed to hold so much more than just two bodies and inhaled. The idea suddenly became very clear to him and he could only hope Jack would understand.

 

Sam Winchester, of all people, understood loss.

 

"Thank you. You say thank you."

 

The thanks he could give Castiel was endless, his life had been saved by the angel more times than he could remember. But he chose to give thanks to Cas for one reason in that moment. Thank you for saving Dean, protecting Dean and being there for his brother when he wasn't.

 

Crowley was an enigma, both fighting against and for the Winchesters at moments, sometimes at the same time. But despite the villainous uncaring facade he wore, Sam was thankful to Crowley for being around and being - sometimes - helpful. He didn't think he would ever understand why the demon did it but he was grateful for the sacrifice he made too.

 

He thanked Kelly for what she had created, even when she knew she would die. She willingly gave her life to give the world something hopeful, to give Sam something that he could use to prove to himself that people can change and that being labelled a monster doesn't mean you are a monster. She also gave Castiel a reason to keep going, a reason to fight regardless of how many times he'd been pushed down.

 

He was thankful that even though everything seemed to be going downhill, that they'd been given the opportunity to grow closer as a family.

 

"And you say you're sorry." Sam continued as he watched Dean pour the gasoline, noticing how his brother pointedly avoided looking at Cas' body.

 

He was sorry for so, so much.

 

He wasn't going to lie to himself and pretend that, if blessed with the opportunity, he would do it all the same again. Because that was a lie, he had many regrets but he was going to let them burn away with the fire. Cas is dead, Crowley is dead, Kelly is dead. Now, he had to focus on Jack, teaching him how to be good and bringing mom back.

 

"You hope they're somewhere without, uh, sadness or pain."

  
Cas deserved Heaven. Sam refused to believe that after everything the angel had done, Chuck would not allow him in. Regardless of where angels normally go, Castiel should be in his own personal Heaven, allowed to live out the rest of his eternal life in peace.

 

The same went for Kelly. She carried the literal spawn of Satan but Jack had told him his mother was past the pearly gates and that had sparked a slight moment of happiness in Sam. At least, he knew for a fact that one person got what they deserved.

 

And, ironically, Crowley deserved the best - Heaven probably didn't suit his needs and Sam could imagine the demon raging at being locked in whatever was deemed his happiest moment. He just hoped Crowley did not end up in Purgatory and wherever he was, he was happy.

 

"You hope they're somewhere better." He met Jack's eyes and nodded, continued nodding as he looked off into the distance, holding back on the urge to cry as he tried to convince himself of his own speech and finish it.

 

"You say goodbye."

 

And that was something Sam knew how to do best.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! :)
> 
> I'm not a big fan of this work but I've spent so long being unable to write that I jumped on the opportunity to type anything :')
> 
> I've been struggling a lot with my mental health but I'm hoping to start posting my trash more often as soon as I've got ahold of myself again x3
> 
> Take care <3


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